The next great never-ending adventure
by Faff
Summary: In the climax of the final battle, Harry and Voldermort are thrown into a different world. The war in wizarding Britain is over, but the fight for Fiore has only just begun.
1. Via anima

The next great never-ending adventure.

Chapter one: Via anima

Summary: In the climax of the final battle, Harry and Voldermort are thrown into a different world. The war in wizarding Britain is over, but the fight for Fiore has only just begun.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or Harry Potter.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

Jets and bolts of different coloured light flew between the two duelling wizards, illuminating the dusk-lit section of the Hogwarts school grounds. Zaps, whistles and snaps shattered silence wherever it fell. The many onlookers having long since given up on jeering, taunting or cheering, with only worry and anticipation remaining in the air.

Too much was at stake, to rest on the outcome of one duel. Too much lay in the hands, and on the shoulders of these two wizards, who fought for the fate of the wizarding world. It was the light facing the dark, good combating evil, the Chosen One challenging the Dark Lord. But, when it got down to it. Past all the hyperbole. Between the life and death dance and the juggling with the lives of so many. it was just two people, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, fighting to the death.

With their titles and monikers not mattering, and their followers or friends either forbidden, or too scared to interfere. It was just a desperate struggle for victory, for neither can live while the other survives.

"Avada Kedavra!" A bolt of green light flew forth, Harry ducked to the side, letting the curse sail over his head to collide with the already destroyed segment of wall behind him.

"Reducto!" Blue light answered green, and Voldemort parried it before countering with his own frantic. "Reducto!" Harry reflected the curse back at the Dark Lord, whose red eyes flashed with hate when he flicked his wand, sending the curse flying off into the sky.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry incanted. Voldermorts hideous, serpentine features twisted in even greater anger, as he was forced to step back and counter the spell that had been sent his way. He twisted and jabbed his wand at lightning speed, deflecting the spell into the ground, causing already broken stone tiles to fracture further.

And the duel raged on, until… Simultaneously they cast. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

They say the right man in the wrong place can make all the difference, and vice versa with the wrong man and the right place. But what if it was the wrong man, and the right man, in the right and wrong place in the wrong yet right time... Well… When the spells met, the sky seemed to darken, and for Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, everything went black.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

On a dreary hillside, in the magical Kingdom of Fiore, there stood a young man. He was clad in a peculiar fashion, and on his back he had slung a sack. Tied on to this sack were several staffs and staves, all of different size and shape, though all with very extraordinary designs.

His face was fair, yet he bore an interesting tattoo around his right eye, a tattoo only partially covered by his untamed, sapphire blue hair. Narrowing his eyes, the boy turned his gaze skyward.

Raising his hand, he drew a staff from his pack. Wheeling the wooden magical implement in a whirlwind motion above his head, the boy executed this movement by slamming the base of the staff into the ground at his feet.

With this motion, magic flowed through him, coursing through his very being, channelling through the staff and allowing it's mystical effects to take place. As the young man's magic took effect, a rift became visible in the sky. A warped emptiness that had been there, unnoticed, siphoning the natural magical energy from the world into another place beyond the wormhole in the sky.

This particular Anima portal, as it was called, was giving the young mage more trouble than usual. Trouble that was not welcome. He forced more magic into the spell, causing the wind to rip about the landscape nearby, tussling the grass and sending dust and dirt billowing up into the air.

Something was different about this portal, Mystogan thought to himself, as he struggled to close the portal. It was troubling….

They say, don't trouble trouble, till trouble troubles you. in this case, that little idiom held true. As the young mage, who went by the name of Mystogan, saw something fall from within the Anima portal. Two somethings to be exact, two distinctly humanoid somethings.

There were a few bursts of blinding, colourful light as they emerged from the portal high up in the sky. But as the figures cartwheeled, tumbled and fell, the lights seemed to stop.

One figure, whose robes billowed about him like the shadow of a bat, screamed. The scream was loud enough to be heard from where Mystogan stood, and it was high pitched in a sickening, animalistic sort of way. With this crowing, the heavily robed person, morphed into a literal shadow and began to cannon away towards the ground. But instead of free falling as he had been before, the cloud of black smoke that was invariably a person, seemed to coast on the air. Until it disappeared a large distance away, deep into the canopy of the forest and its trees.

The other person, was free-falling, limbs twisting and spinning as he descended, out of control. But this persons robes weren't as all consuming as the other figures had been. Though they still flapped and flew about their form, making this person seem similarly animal like. But more of a crow, or blackbird than a bat. This person didn't morph or transform as the other had though, and he just kept falling towards the ground, seemingly to his death.

Young Mystogan watched, his mouth hanging open as the person was falling to their brutal doom. He was helpless to stop it, as his magic couldn't assist him in this specific situation and he was only in his early teens. He wasn't experienced enough to deal with sudden, bizarre and alarming situations like this.

This person seemed to have a trick or two up their sleeve, thankfully. As when they neared the top of the forests dark trees, they flailed their arm, and another jet of light emitted from them. From where he stood Mystogan couldn't see what the light had done, but the young mage assumed it must have been a spell of some kind.

As the person vanished, enveloped by the leaves and branches of the forest, a thousand questions ran through Mystogans mind. Who were those two people? Had they come from Edolas, and if so did they intend to come, or had he accidentally brought them through. Were they mages? If so, what kind, because that was some vibrant magic they were throwing about. Were they fighting or something? Mystogan just didn't know, but he hoped that they hadn't been too badly hurt. The blue haired mage couldn't shake the creeping feeling that he had somehow caused this.

Mystogan ran down the hillside at full pelt, leaping over rocks and lumps of earth that stuck out at odd points all across the pock marked incline. The hill levelled out into flat ground, which then quickly became overrun by the forest and foliage. Mystogan pushed his way through the undergrowth, heading in a beeline for where the second figure had fallen. As the one who had flown off, was now too far away for him to reach. Besides, if that second persons spell had failed, then they might be seriously hurt, or even dead. But Mystogan didn't care to dwell on that, so he set his face in a resolute expression, and focused on just getting to this person to see if they were alright.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

One moment Harry Potter had cast the killing curse at Voldermort. Then in the blink of an eye, it was like the ground had been pulled out from beneath his feet. More than that, it seemed as if everything had just been swept away all of a sudden. He likened it to apparation, except without the nauseating tunnel vision.

One thing remained though, to his displeasure. Lord Voldemort seemed to be experiencing the same effects as Harry. There was a moment where the two of them just stood, dumbfounded, in a formless, colourless space... But that moment ended as soon as it had begun.

Harry wasn't sure if his sight had returned, or if it had gone anywhere in the first place. As in that brief moment of displacement, it had been as if there was nothing, anywhere. Now though, a landscape returned, with colour and sound, smells and sensations.

He was flying, high up in the sky... No, not flying, he was falling… Same difference, Harry considered, as he began to plummet towards the ground.

A midnight sky was suddenly all around him, and he felt cold and damp. Fog clouded his sight, then that same fog disappeared again in an instant. The rush of cold wind dried him just as quickly, and the gusting air sent him spinning about as he fell. His cone of vision switched between the beautifully deep, starry sky. A dense, expansive forest. And Lord Voldemort.

Voldermort looked like he was experiencing the same thoughts and feelings as Harry right now. Although the Dark Lord was screaming and swearing up a storm. The disgusting human being was throwing out spells left and right, evidently trying to hit Harry. But none connected and soon the serpentine wizard gave up. Seemingly to focus more on how to stop falling.

The dark lords physical body seemed to disintegrate around him, and Voldermort changed form. Now a tumultuous mass of black, noxious smoke, the dark wizard flew away from Harry, descending at a safer speed into the forest a great distance away.

Harry turned his gaze back to the rapidly approaching treetops, but was forced to repeatedly turn his head in order to keep sight of the area he would inevitably impact with. He knew a spell that could slow his fall, but he had left it too late to escape unscathed, and Harry's current predicament made spell casting quite problematic.

Harry prided himself on being able to remain calm under duress, but the very sudden change of location, altitude and time, did not do anything for his peace of mind.

Just as he reached the trees, he managed to strangle out a spell to slow him down and cushion his fall. Indeed, rather than being impaled, splintered and dashed on the branches, Harry tumbled through them at a slower speed than he would have. It still hurt like hell though, as he ripped past leaves and twigs. Each inch of every surrounding tree, scratching and scraping at his exposed face and hands, tearing up his robes and dislodging his glasses.

Harry then felt one particularly forceful thump on his upper back, followed by a massive increase in the spinning sensations. Finally culminating in a full body contact with the forest floor, which rather painfully had some protruding roots poking out of the solid ground.

Nice as it was to not be falling anymore, Harry only managed to take in a single breath, before losing consciousness completely. Slipping into an absence of mind, a calming lack of any and all sensation.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

Before Harry's eyes even opened, he was acutely aware of one immediate fact. He hurt, all over. A throbbing, sharp pain, which felt like his entire system was being shocked every time a muscle so much as twitched.

Involuntarily he let out a heavy, dull groan, while forcing his eyes to open. Upon seeing a canopy of tree branches and rich green leaves above him, the memory of what had happened came flooding back. Sunbeams streaked down through the gaps between leaves, the bright light shining directly into Harry's eyes, causing him to realise that he must've been unconscious for awhile.

"Hello..." The stony voice of a young boy said, coming from a distance to Harry's left.

Lacking the energy and feeling far to sore to be surprised, by a child's voice of all things, Harry turned his head to the look over at the kid. Turned, wasn't the right word, he more, twitched his neck very slightly, causing a minor increase in dull aching around that area. But resulting in his head rocking over in the right direction.

Sure enough, sitting up against a tree a short distance across from him, was a young lad. Probably about thirteen, with a large travelling rucksack sitting beside him. The pack had what looked like lots of staffs tied to it, making it look very odd indeed. Not as odd as the boy though, who had a very vibrant head of blue hair.

His face creasing in confusion, Harry grunted in what he hoped was a friendly enough sounding greeting.

"Are you feeling okay?" Asked the boy, still remaining po-faced and serious.

Harry responded with a creaking groan, which helped to release enough of his tension for the-boy-who-lived to answer hoarsely. "Well... I feel like, maybe, I might be a little bit hurt..."

The blue haired boy let out a brief snort of amusement, and his serious expression lifted for a second. Which relieved Harry somewhat, causing him, even in his injured state, to smile as well. No kid should be that grim looking.

Harry continued groggily. "I'm alive, so I guess i'm okay... Although I think I might've knocked something loose in my head... 'Cos you've got blue hair..."

The boy raised an eyebrow in curiosity and answered, sounding confused. "My hair is blue..." He said. As if he was stating the obvious or something.

Harry, didn't really know how to react to that. The kids hair was blue, like, too blue. But, this just didn't compute in Harry's mind. What thirteen year old boy dyes their hair? What thirteen year old boy dyes their hair blue!?

Perhaps too concussed to be polite, Harry just blurted out dumbly. "What?"

"My hair is blue." The blue haired boy answered, then continued to add. "Why is that surprising? Blue's a normal hair colour."

"... What?" Harry's face couldn't rightly accommodate the look of sheer perplexity it now exhibited. But the puzzlement wouldn't stop there, as the boys next question made almost no sense to Harry.

"Are you from Edolas?" The kid, whose calm, poker faced features had been relaxed up until then, now seemed to turn mildly accusatory.

"What?" Was again the only answer Harry could muster.

The boy sighed with a tired resignation. "Edolas? Is that where you're from?"

"No." Harry answered, feeling oddly put out at being accused of being from this Edolas place, wherever it was. "I'm from England."

The kid didn't look like he even recognised the name. "The UK?" Harry tried hopefully, but was met with nothing but more confusion. "Europe?" Still nothing.

In a last ditch attempt to garner some reaction from the boy who apparently had a perfectly ordinary hair colour, Harry said. "Planet Earth?" Feeling more than a tad silly when he said so.

"That's strange." Said the boy, more to himself than Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, not for the first time, and dauntingly not for the last time either.

"Are you from Earthland?" The pondering boy asked.

"No, no land, just Earth..." Harry answered, before grasping his logic by the horns and demanding. "Where am I?"

"You're in a country called Fiore, in a world called Earthland. And i'm sorry, but you're... you are, not exactly in your own world anymore..." The kid explained carefully. "My name is Mystogan, and i'm kind of in the same situation as you... I'm from a different world to this one too... But not your one, which is strange."

Mystogan sounded like he was going to carry on, but he grew quiet, when Harry turned his head to look back up at the sky and said to the heavens. A desperate grab for a way out, he asked. "Fawkes?"

A still minute passed in silence, while nothing happened except for the wind blowing in the trees... Fawkes wasn't coming. Meaning Harry was too far away, which was impossible for Fawkes, as far as he knew.

"A different world...?" Harry breathed, not looking at Mystogan, but turning over the implications of the idea in his head. "Your not just pulling my leg?"

"No." Mystogan replied solemnly.

Harry looked back at the boy, feeling more than anything a burning desire for the kid to be pulling some kind of joke. To suddenly yell 'april fools!'. Or at least for this to be some horrific trick by Voldermort and the death eaters, to twist his mind before killing him. Anything that meant this insane sounding impossibility was false.

Though his fears and more were confirmed, when Harry met Mystogans concerned hazel eyes. At the moment their gazes met, something happened out of the blue.

... It was simple really... Far easier than such a magic should've been... That Harry had just performed legillimency accidentally, and so naturally, unsettled him, nauseated him. His above average proficiency with occulmency, along with his intense desire for the truth at that moment, must have been enough to involuntarily initiate the mind reading technique.

Thankfully he saw little, yet he still felt submerged in the numerous memories and thoughts. All of which ratified one fact in his own mind... Harry was not in his own world.

Then he blinked, and was back in the forest, laying painfully on the dusty ground, looking across at a puzzled, blue haired boy.

"Are you going to be alright?" Mystogan asked, concerned.

"I... How?" Harry mumbled, still wrapping his head around the truths he had seen in Mystogans mind. His being in a different world standing out as the most glaring one.

"I saw you fall through the portal. Do you remember that?" Mystogan questioned.

"Yes..." Harry answered, recalling the event. "What was that?"

"That was an anima portal. They're meant to be only between Edolas, the other world I mentioned, and this one, Earthland. But thats only possible because Edolas and Earthland are parallel worlds, I didn't even know that it could connect to other, nonparallel worlds... But somehow it did..." Mystogan explained quietly.

"Oh... How do you know this?" Harry asked without thinking.

"I..." Mystogan seemed to pause, unsure of how to, or just not wanting to continue. He decided upon divulging the information though, as he said. "I am from Edolas. Which is where the portals are being opened from. I've been trying to close the portals from here in Fiore, but this one... I... I think, I did something. I might've caused this. I think I brought you here..." Bless his heart the boy sounded very guilty and very apologetic. Given this and the fact that it sounded like it was a mistake, Harry couldn't summon the gall to be annoyed. "I'm so sorry." Mystogan confessed.

"That's alright. Not like you knew..." Harry supplied amiably. Then carried on to question. "Wait, you're closing them...? Do you think you could open one then? Send me back?" It was a vague hope, but a hope nonetheless.

"I'm sorry... But I can't... Closing them is easy. But opening them, requires power and knowledge that I don't have, not to mention a lot of machinery as well. That and... Like I said, Edolas and Earthland are parallel, so travelling between these two worlds, while very difficult, is easier than..." Mystogan trailed off, before just saying. "I doubt we could find your world, let alone get you back safely... I'm sorry..."

A heavy feeling then weighed Harry down, making him feel as though he was resting on quicksand. Everything seemed to distance itself, his senses became numb, thoughts replaced with only faint feelings... He wasn't going home... To Hogwarts... To his friends, Ron, Hermione, Neville... To Ginny... He wouldn't see them again...

... Then, through the haze of fear and anxious depression that was creeping up on him, came one, clear, obvious beacon. Something that was a constant for him. Something he had dealt with his entire life, whether he knew it or not.

Even if he could go home. He wouldn't. "Mystogan." Harry addressed the boy slowly. "There was another one, who came through with me, wasn't there?"

"Yes." Mystogan answered, nodding.

"Which direction did he go from here?" Harry's face had shifted, to an expression of pure, grim determination. An expression which caused the young Mystogan to look a tad unnerved.

"That way I think..." He pointed off in the direction of the sun. "But you've been unconscious for close to a day now. He might be long gone..."

"Then I've got to" Harry only got that far in his statement. As he tried to sit up while saying it. Though he managed to reach a sitting position, the aches and pains made him hiss in agony as he forced his body to move.

"Here." Mystogan said, and when Harry looked up, he saw the boy was offering him one of the staves from his rucksack.

It was more of a staff really, a wholly Gandalf affair Harry reasoned happily. Smiling he took the staff, saying a friendly. "Thanks." To Mystogan for his consideration.

The staff felt odd to hold, like it was abuzz with static electricity. A sensation which Harry knew well, and one he grew accustomed to instantly. This staff was magical... Planting the staffs end on the ground, Harry managed to push himself to his feet with a lot more ease than if he had tried to stand on his own steam. Now upright on admittedly wobbly legs, Harry looked down at the kid standing next to him.

Mystogan was a little over half Harry's height, had, yeah, definitely blue hair, and was looking up at him with concerned, round hazel eyes. He also bore a tattoo over his right eye, of an odd but probably significant shape. Harry couldn't help but feel like he recognised the boy though, behind the tattoo and all that blue hair, Mystogan looked like someone Harry knew. He just didn't know who.

Mystogan had donned his pack too, which was almost comically large on the boy. It was then that Harry seemed to sense something. It was strange, like a sixth sense, a tugging at his brain similar to occulmency and legillimency, but not exactly as disconnected as the mind arts felt. It was like he was perceiving something from the boy. Not thoughts, or feelings or memories, no, it felt like magic, like Harry could sense Mystogans magic... Did he have magic? He had mentioned it. All this talk of portals and other worlds didn't scream muggle to him... Did they even have muggles here? Where was he!?

New world... With a vast lack of knowledge on said world. So Harry did two things before limping away. Firstly he patted himself down, still holding onto the staff for balance mind you, but he needed to check. Mokeskin pouch on belt. Wand... Damn, where was his wand?

Looking back down to where he had been lying, Harry shifted his eyes across the small clearing, searching for his wand... He didn't see it... "Hey, Mystogan... You didn't happen to see a..."

Before Harry could finish his question, Mustogan was holding Harrys wand out to him. "Here... It felt important, and powerful... And, well, I couldn't risk you attacking me when you woke up, so, I held onto it."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry slowly took his Wand back. After a moment he decided what this was, and commended the kid. "... Smart." Then he stowed it in his hip holster and added with a smile. "Cheers."

With that crisis averted, Harry began his check again. Mokeskin pouch and all within, wand, all safe, secure and thankfully unharmed beneath his now nearly ragged robes.

The second thing Harry did. was simply to ask. "So... Tell me about this Earthland place..."

Then he headed off into the woods, with Mystogan following after the wounded wizard.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

A/N: In an attempt to curb the writers block thats been plaguing my other fic, i've started posting this one. At first I thought, "Only one fic at a time! Don't get overloaded!" But then, well I realised I needed something to keep me from getting bored with said other fic. So this is that something!

I'll drop a little precursor info here. All HP canon is exactly that, canon, unless mentioned otherwise. In the FT timeline Harry has arrived sometime during the year X778, so he'll be a scant older than most of the main cast of FT. Harry and Voldermort will grow more powerful in certain ways, and avenues of magic will be opened or become easier for them, for reasons I will go into later. However, it won't be as easy as "stupefy." Game set match to Harry, no, a lot will change but then again a lot will stay the same. Pairings? Won't be the main focus, and are undecided, though it won't be slash. Oh, and Harrys mokeskin pouch has a bunch of his gear in it. I won't yet say exactly what, but it should be fun and come in very handy as Harry travels around Fiore hunting the Dark Lord. Rating is T, but liable to change.

Leave constructive criticism, speculation, suggestions or whatever you wish in a review, if you feel like dropping one. I may not directly reply to reviews, but I still read them and take each one into account. Follow if you like, and favourite if you feel it deserves it. More importantly though, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed the start of The next great never-ending adventure.


	2. Walk in the woods

The next great never-ending adventure.

Chapter 2: Walk in the woods.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy tail or Harry Potter.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

A day and a half of walking later...

The sun was shining at it's highest point, making it pretty much exactly midday and a beautiful day it was too. Very few clouds occupied the sky, and those that were lazily drifting across the clear blue firmament were as white as snow.

According to Mystogan, it was the sunny season and most of the Kingdoms summer days were as nice as this. This was met as a refreshing change for Harry, because the English summers he was used to, while more often than not, actually sunny, were never constantly so. Also the heat of a English summer was that dry kind of baking temperature, and was for the most part, quite uncomfortable. Fiores summer days however, struck a keen harmony between hot and fresh. Meaning the air felt clean, especially when wonderful summer breezes floated by, rather than sweeping through the air and providing a desperate relief from the heat, as they had done in Britain.

"Nice weather here."

Harrys comment about the remarkably nice weather, had prompted another exchange of other-worldly information between the two travelling companions.

An unspoken deal had emerged between the two, over their short time travelling. Harry would ask a general question about Earthland, and Mystogan would fill in the blanks with what he knew, occasionally even dropping some bits of info about Edolas, the boys own home world. So far this game of sorts, had given Harry a lot to think about. With so much being different it was like, well, it 'was' being in a completely new world. However, questions were running low after a day and a half of this back and forth, which resulted in Harrys very English formality of discussing the weather.

Now Harry was telling Mystogan about the many types of English weather. Scottish drizzle, Devon rain, windy beaches, London winter chill, the many different variations of grey clouds and so on. Then in return Mystogan told him a little about the Edolas climate, which Harry admitted sounded a bit more exciting than English weather. Of course, the presence of floating islands added a chaotic factor to the skies of Edolas. Mystogan had also given Harry knowledge on the seasons and weather in Fiore. They both agreed that the Fioran's (if that was the right term) had it lucky with their lovely climate, as it was apparently idyllic and predictable most of the year round. It snowed just the right amount during winter, their summers weren't too hot, their springs were (according to Mystogan) exceptionally beautiful, and the Fiore autumn was equally picturesque. The only thing his blue haired companion had made special mention of, in regards to Fiore weather, was that when it rained, it poured. Harry had noticed a markedly grim look pass over Mystogans face when he mentioned the rain, and decided not to press the issue. He'd just have to buy an umbrella. Sure, he could use a drying charm, or water repelling charm, but what kind of a person would he be if he didn't walk around with an umbrella in the rain? That just seemed weird.

Harry had also recovered from his injuries astoundingly fast. He would've expected to find he'd broken a bone or two, but the most he'd discovered was some severe bruising, an array cuts and numerous scrapes.

It might well be this new world, Harry thought. He did after all, feel different here. Not just because of the lack of familiarity. Or that hideous, ever present, subconscious dread at having left his friends either... He did generally feel, lighter, springier... It was strange... Welcome, but strange.

As they contentedly made their way along the weather beaten dirt path that led through the forest, both travellers were alerted by a very jarring, very sudden sound. It was a sound Harry was, unfortunately, all to familiar with. A scream. The high pitched, terror drenched scream of a little girl to be exact. Whoever she was, she was in trouble and with a scream intoned like her's was, this girls life may very well be in danger.

The two spared half a moments glance between one another, before briskly nodding, and taking off into the undergrowth at speed. Heading in the direction from which the scream came, Harry and Mystogan ducked and dived through the dense foliage at a furious speed. Mystogan began lagging behind due to his large backpack, but Harry was throwing cutting and bludgeoning curses ahead to make their path clearer.

It was Harry who reached the source of the screams first. What he found sent a chill down his spine. Two beings were present in a claustrophobic clearing within the forest. One of which was a little, blue haired girl, who was evidently the owner of those terrified screams. The other being was the one that really made Harry's hair stand on end. It was not human, nor was it even corporeal. A fuming, black fog swirled about a foot in front of the girl, who was cowering at the base of a tree trunk.

The girl had her hands out in front of her, and Harry could sense the magic radiating from her. Thank Merlin she was a witch, Harry thought, otherwise she would already be dead.

The writhing, inky smoke, which was barely being repelled by the girl's magically created barrier, was easily identifiable to the-boy-who-lived. It was Voldermort. In his soul-bound, formless state. The dark lord had clearly dispensed with his body in order to survive the fall from the Anima portal. What was he doing now though...? Looking for a temporary host body? Well whatever it was he wanted, he wouldn't get it.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry roared, whipping his already drawn wand at the fell wraith that was Tom Riddle. Voldermort heard the spell, and seemed to be flung away from the girl. The formless dark wizard looked to have been struggling against the barrier to get at the girl. But he suddenly stopped trying to force his way through, resulting in the Dark Lord catapulting away from the repelling magic, and out of the path of Harry's radiant, silver stag patronus. Voldermort, with his dark nature exacerbated in this form, was sent tumbling away by the light magic of the patronus and the force of the girls own defence.

The corporeal stag charged through where the dark lord had been, and pulled itself around in an artful leap and bound, to come to a halt in front of the girl. Standing protectively in front of her, its antlers levelled at the retreating dark lord, the stag acted as the guardian Harry had intended for it to be.

Voldermorts wraith screeched like a raging banshee and flew off into the thick forest, away from them all. The messy haired young man looked to the small girl Voldemort had been attacking, only to see her still cowering, crying and hugging herself close at the base of the tree. She looked up, and saw that the monstrous, smoky being had gone. The creature, vanquished by the bespectacled young man who stood nearby, with his spirit animal companion, or whatever it was before her. The man was holding a stick by his side, though with a strength of purpose that it seemed as if the implement might be a fearsome sword. Still, in the eyes of this recently rescued little girl, her saviour might as well have been wielding excalibur itself.

In the years to come, Wendy Marvell would never tell the man himself this, but at that moment, he had been the most valiant and most awesome thing she had ever seen. Although, she'd make no secret of it when chatting or gossiping with her friends. Now however, as she sat, quivering in fear at the base of a tree, having exhausted nearly all her magic in order to stay alive, she felt only intense waves of relief. Along with a growing feeling, of hope.

Harry saw the blue haired girl look at him with tearful eyes, and as those brown eyes gained a twinkle of hope, he looked away to where the Dark Lord had fled to.

Just at that second, Mystogan caught up to Harry. The-boy-who-lived turned his head to look at the Edolas migrant and commanded of him. "Stay here and look after her." Taking off like a shot, he called over his shoulder to reassure them. "I'll be back!"

Once more firing cutting and bludgeoning curses into the trees where Voldermort had disappeared, the young man forged a path through the dense undergrowth. Harry soldiered on for a minute or two, before slowly and begrudgingly coming to a stop... There was no sign of Voldermort.

Suddenly, out of nowhere and sounding like a corpse given speech, the Dark Lord's voice reverberated in all the trees around him. "Well, well, well. Harry Potter."

"Where are you, Tom. Show yourself!" Harry brutally demanded, slowly turning about on the spot to try and better pinpoint the source of the hideously familiar voice.

"Do not call me by that name, Potter!" Voldermort hissed. "You should know that by now... As for where I am? Well, I can tell where 'we' are..." A bone chilling, high pitched laugh danced around the small area of forest. "Can you believe it, boy? An entirely different world! Think of the possibilities." The dark wraith eagerly spoke, his voice brimming with a malevolent excitement.

"I hate to think what possibilities you're considering, Tom." Harry replied frostily and humourlessly.

Spitefully, Voldermort snapped back wt him. "How can you remain so blind, Potter! With such power, why, we could rule this new world as Kings! No, as Gods!"

"You're twisted, Tom..." Harry answered, before intrigue struck him, and he asked coldly. "But i'm curious. How did you come to the conclusion that we're in a different world?"

"Do not take me for a fool like you, boy..." Voldermort shot back. Then there was a pause, and Harry thought that he might not get an answer. But sure enough the Dark Lord continued. "I can sense it... There is magic in the very air. Everywhere is simply, bristling with energy. I've never felt so alive...! Do you feel it, Potter...?" Riddle stopped speaking for a moment, and it seemed as if he might be just revelling in the ambient magic of this world. The formless dark wizard continued soon after. "The power... I can feel it... It will make me stronger, Potter, and I will regain my full strength. I will regain a body. And then, Harry Potter. You. Will. DIE!" Voldermort's voice escalated to a near maddening pitch and volume, as the insane tone belted throughout the forest. Flocks of birds fled into the air, and animals scurried away from the unearthly sound of the Dark Lord's voice.

Voldermort then flew out of the trees like a bullet, and washed past Harry, sending the-boy-who-lived into a sickening bout of nausea as the intensely dark magic effected him. Voldermort vanished into the trees once more, and this time, Harry didn't bother chasing after him. In that form he'd likely never catch him.

Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he let out an enraged sigh. Throwing a cathartic "Reducto!" spell at a nearby tree to vent his frustration. Then Harry slunk off back to where Mystogan was no doubt looking after the girl. As he sullenly trudged back, the tree he'd hit with his spell crashed to the forest floor with a great creaking and thudding, before it ceased moving and the forest fell gloomily still... And it had been such a lovely day too.

So Mystogan was right, Harry contemplated as he walked back through the makeshift path he had rendered in the forest. That other figure that had fallen through the Anima portal with him, had survived. Harry had held out hope that it wasn't Voldermort who had been pulled through, but he now knew for certain that that was not the case. The Dark Lord Voldermort was here in Fiore, in the same position as Harry. Only the other wizard evidently had some very dark plans brewing for the new world. Whether getting back to magical Britain was one of his top priorities, had yet to be defined. All Harry knew is that wherever Voldermort went, it was his responsibility to stop him, and if that responsibility took him to an entirely new world? So what. Harry would just have to deal with what he was given, just like he'd been doing his whole life. Getting back home (if it was possible) could wait. It would have to, because while Voldermort was still at large, Harry had to stop him. For neither can live while the other survives. But that was the least of the reasons why the abomination had to be killed.

With a defeated look, Harry reentered the small clearing to see Mystogan kneeling beside the distraught girl. With Harrys silvery patronus sat beside them. The girl was about five or six maybe? Her hair was coloured a deep, hypnotic blue, much like Mystogans. Harry had chatted with the self same Edolas boy about his hair colour, and discovered that in Fiore and even Edolas, outlandish hair was an ordinary thing, especially so for mages. The girl had quaint features, and her big chocolate coloured eyes were trembling with the aftershock of what she had just endured. Harry was greatly relieved she seemed to be unharmed, but was also very impressed by the fact that she had held Voldermort off as long as she did. The Dark Lord's wraith wasn't one to be repelled by any old magic, so the girl must hold some considerable power within her. Though her shuddering, exhausted form told him she had used up most, if not all of her power. Mystogan had said that mages could start very young, the blue haired boy was sort of proof of that himself. But Harry had jokingly said he'd believe it when he saw it. Well, now he did, and the-boy-who-lived was just glad she was alive.

"Hey there, you okay?" Harry asked the girl kindly, as he walked over to where she and Mystogan sat. Harry took a knee beside them and gave a swift nod to Mystogan, indicating he'd talk more about the attacker later. Harry looked at the girl with a gentle expression as he waited patiently for a reply.

"Y-y-yes... You s-saved me, f-from the monster...? Th-thank you!" She half stammered half professed to him.

To which Harry raised his hands in a calming gesture and said. "Don't worry about it. Just calm down and take some deep breaths, ok...?"

"O-okay..." The girl answered, proceeding to do as Harry had recommended.

When she still seemed overly shaken, Harry had a funny idea. Fumbling about with his mokeskin pouch, Harry reached into the magically expanded bag and withdrew half a bar of chocolate, wrapped neatly in tin foil. Unwrapping it and breaking off a piece, he handed it to the girl. "Eat this. It helps with this kind of thing."

"W-what is it?" The girl asked, barely looking at what he held, through her tear stained eyes.

"Chocolate." Harry answered simply, smiling at her encouragingly.

Gingerly the girl took the proffered piece of chocolate, and ate it hurriedly. This seemed to help calm her, and to reduce the effects of such a dark entity as Voldermort. He was no dementor, but still, to the inexperienced it would've been sickening. The girl smiled warmly and managed a humble. ""Thank you."

After a short while of recovering silence, Mystogan said. "Well, Harry, this is Wendy. Wendy, this is Harry." Evidently introductions between the two bluenettes had been gotten out the way already.

Harry smiled and reiterated personally. "Hey Wendy, i'm Harry. I take it you've already met my friend Mystogan then?"

"... Mystogan? I thought you said your name was, Jellal?" Wendy asked, confused.

Mystogan, or Jellal, had the good grace to look bashful as Harry chuckled and said. "Oh, so she gets the real name, eh? Be honest, it's because she's cuter than me isn't it?"

Wendy giggled, breaking away some of the fear that had hung around from her attack. "You're funny." She commented, Harry thought, very adorably.

"I suppose." Harry acquiesced with a smile, before asking, his face knitting into a display of his concern. "So, Wendy. What were you doing all the way out here on your own? Are you lost?"

A downtrodden look came over the girls face when she answered, and Harry immediately wished he'd been a bit more tactful. "Sort of... My, my Mommy, went away... And, and i'm looking for her."

"Well, do you have an idea of where she went? She can't have gotten too far, what's she look like?" Harry asked, hoping that the girl had meant she was only recently separated from her mother, and not the other option which he dreaded.

"She's really pretty, and really big... She's white. Has big wings." That little gem sent Harry for a spin. His eyes widened in surprise, but Wendy didn't seem to notice as she continued. "Oh, and she has the prettiest scales ever."

"... Scales?" Harry questioned, a little worried for the girls mental health.

"Yeah, she's a dragon, have you seen her?" Wendy asked hopefully.

At this point Mystogan, or was it Jellal, chipped in to say. "... Wendy, just rest there for a second, Harry and I are going to talk for a moment over here. Just sit tight, okay?" The blue haired boy said encouragingly, sending Wendy a smile before walking off to the other side of the clearing.

Harry followed Jellal, and they began a hushed conversation. "Dragon...? Please don't tell me that's actually possible... Mystogan?"

"I don't know what it's like where you're from Harry, but here, dragons are known, or rumoured at least, to raise human children." Ignoring Harry's confounded expression Jellal continued. "It would also explain the magic. Dragons in Earthland train their children in a kind of magic called dragonslayer magic..."

"So, you're telling me she was actually raised by a dragon?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. Only from what I hear the dragons vanished some time ago. Most people regard them as myth and legend..." Jellal explained.

"Okay... Thats, odd. But okay... Haven't seen any dragons recently then?" Harry asked, half mockingly half worriedly.

Jellal gave him a withering look, before the two headed back over to Wendy. "Sorry, Wendy, we haven't seen her..." Jellal told her sadly.

The girl replied only with a dejected. "Oh... Okay..."

"Well, look, Wendy, why don't you travel with us for a bit? There's no need for you to be all alone." Jellal said kind heartedly. Looking at Harry for approval, Jellal smiled back at Wendy when the older male nodded affirmatively.

"Really?" Wendy asked hopefully. "Could you help me look for Grandine?

The two nodded, and Harry, assuming Grandine was her draconic parent, said. "Sure."

Wendys eyes brimmed with tears once more, only this time her face bubbled with happiness. "Thank you!" She exclaimed.

"No problem." Jellal said modestly. "Are you okay to get up and walk?"

"I think so." She said, sniffling a little but proceeding to stand up on shaky legs, and put on a brave face. "Yeah." She beamed.

"Welcome to our little troupe, Wendy." Harry smiled. "You sure you're okay to walk?"

"Yes, thank you." The blue haired girl replied earnestly, smiling appreciatively at Harry.

"Well let's find our way back to the path then." Jellal suggested, and the three walked back through the parting of foliage that Harry had created to get there, until they emerged onto the forest path once more. Meanwhile Harrys Patronus trotted along in their wake.

"Um, thank you again... If you weren't there, I... I..." Wendy's voice trailed off, and she looked at the ground between her feet almost shamefully.

"Don't fret about it." Harry said, smiling warmly at her and placing a comforting hand on the young girls shoulder.

"What was that monster though? It was... Scary." She added tentatively.

"That... Was a very dark creature." Harry said carefully.

"But it's gone now. You're safe with us." Jellal added, looking Wendy in the eye and fixing her with a comforting grin. "Well, thanks to Harrys, mascot." The boy added wryly, glancing at the silver stag plodding along behind them.

"Yes." Harry expressed, drawing his wand to give a lazy wave in its direction. Causing the corporeal patron to fade back from whence it came.

"Oh." Wendy seemed to say on reflex, disappointed, before adopting a wistful expression and saying. "... What was that type of magic?"

"That." Harry said with a small air of pride. "Was a patronus charm."

"It was pretty. And it made me feel, warm and, safe..." She added softly.

"Its a projection of all my happiest memories, feelings and thoughts. Which is why it drove of the, dark ghost... Its a sort of, light guardian, I suppose you could say." Harry informed her.

The awed look and smile on Wendys face, made Harry a little happier in this new world. The-boy-who-lived had experienced a lot of shocks to the system in his time, but somehow the blunt of the metaphorical blow always seemed lessened by the knowledge that he was at least helping someone.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

Later that night, Harry and Jellal sat across from each other, on either side of their campfire. The day had drawn on and had now been put to rest, leaving the sky a deep, impenetrable black. Night had well and truly fallen, but Harry and Jellal had waited for Wendy to fall asleep before asking more other-worldly questions of one another. Somehow Harry felt that despite being raised by a dragon, the blue haired girl would be, at least, confused by the information that her two travelling companions were from other worlds. So the two had waited to discuss it until she was asleep.

Now as the orange firelight from the burgeoning campfire, flickered about the small clearing they had made their camp, Jellal posed the first question. "Was that the person who came through with you? The one you said you needed to find... To kill."

"Yeah." Harry replied grimly, staring morosely into the dancing flames.

"Didn't look much like a person..." The Edolas boy stated warily.

"Well... It's complicated. What you saw was a human being, whose soul had been splintered into many different pieces. A foul abomination, who used perverted dark magic in order to become, immortal... Or as close to immortal as he could get..." Harry explained. "But before I say any more. I want you to tell me why you were using a fake name? Don't get me wrong, I don't hold it against you, but why reveal it to her but keep me in the dark?"

Jellal sighed, hugging his knees closer to his chest where he sat. "Well... I couldn't be sure you weren't from my world... You see where i'm from, i'm sort of, famous..." Jellal noted the softer, empathetic expression that Harry took on, but continued nonetheless. "And when I realised that you weren't from Edolas, or Fiore, I decided I'd let you know my actual name..." Jellal shrank further into himself and his expression adopted a pained, fearful tinge as he continued. "I couldn't be sure people hadn't found a way to chase me through into Fiore, and I was, scared. But, well when we found Wendy, it just seemed as good a time as any to tell you my real name."

Harry nodded sagely. "Don't fret mate, I understand... So, care to tell me who you are then? In Edolas I mean. In exchange i'll tell you more about that thing that was attacking Wendy."

"Alright." Jellal agreed. "My name is Jellal. Formerly Prince Jellal of Edolas. But certain, events, led to me leaving my home world to come here." At Harrys inquisitive look, Jellal decided to elaborate slightly. "That portal you fell through? The Anima? It originated from Edolas. They're part of the reason i'm here."

"The other part being?" Harry inquired.

"The portal's leech magical power from this world. Wherever they're opened they drain Earthland of magic... See, in Edolas, magical energy is running out. So my father, the King, came up with a means to get more. Which involved taking it out of Edolas' parallel world, Earthland... My father, he was using the magic he got from here, to, expand our Kingdom..." The sour look on Jellals face, and the way he ground out the word 'expand' told Harry all he needed to know about how Edolas' expansion was being conducted. "So I came here, to try and close the animas." He finished with grim reverence.

"Hmm, I see." Harry said thoughtfully. He didn't say anything more, for there wasn't much to say. He just held a silent appreciation for what the young kid was going through to help people. In several ways, Jellal reminded Harry of himself at the start of his own 'adventure'. They were both thrown into a world they knew nothing about at a young age, and that made Harry empathise strongly with the kid. Also, if Harry looked and ignored the sapphire coloured head of hair, Jellal looked a lot like him at that age. Except better fed, and without the glasses.

A long silence passed between the two as they continued to sit by the fire. Absorbing the sounds of the night. The crackle of their fire, the hum and buzz of different insects, and the odd whistle or rustle of the wind through the trees. Jellal broke the silence curiously. "So, who was that, person then...?"

"... That" Harry tiredly began. "was a person by the name of Tom Riddle, also know as Lord Voldermort, also known as the Dark lord, as well as he-who-must-not-be-named, you-know-who and various other titles... Where i'm from, he was the most powerful dark wizard in a century." Deciding not to explain the whole story to Jellal just yet, Harry cut to the chase. "One of the things Voldermort was obsessed with, was immortality. He searched for it, and he found it. It wasn't exactly immortality, but it was a way for him to unnaturally extend his life. To the point where he could survive death a number of times... Now, for reasons I won't go into, my life and his were sort of magically bound together. This meant that I was the only one who could end Voldermort for good... Well, Voldermort found out about this, and has been repeatedly trying to murder me and anyone else who gets in his way for a long time. Anyway, part of the dark magic that keeps him alive, is tied to why he looked like he did. That was Voldermort in a sort of, bodiless, soul form, I don't understand it completely, but thats the gist of it. He's a truly evil, unnatural thing who's killed hundreds of people and caused the deaths of countless more... He needs to die." Harry let that statement hang in the air, its brutal tone sinking in. "But so far, he's refused, thanks to the magic I mentioned..."

A heavy silence weighed over them for a while, before Jellal simply said. "... Wow... We're two odd people..."

Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed, loudly, but quietened down quickly when he remembered the slumbering Wendy. When he regained his composure, he looked at the amused Jellal and said. "You got that right, Jellal... I'm here chasing a semi-immortal dark wizard, and you're chasing magic draining portals between dimensions... We've got two very odd duties to perform..."

"Duties... Huh, I never thought of it like that really. I suppose that's right though, I do kind of feel like I 'have' to do this, y'know?" Jellal asked.

"I know exactly what you mean... Exactly... We're similar people Jellal, I can sympathise, trust me." Harry said, by way of reassuring his young friend.

The blue haired Edolas prince with the tattooed eye, smiled slightly, before laughing and joking. "Next thing I know you'll be telling me you were famous in your world, or that you've got a tattoo concealed under your glasses or something..."

There was an awkward silence just then, and Jellals face grew a little concerned as he read the silence for what it meant. "Harry?"

As part of an answer Harry lifted up his fringe, to reveal the lightning bolt shaped scar that marked his forehead. "No tattoo i'm afraid, but i've got this." He chuckled. Then Harry laughed a little harder before saying. "And back home they used to call me the-boy-who-lived. I was, whether I wanted to be or not, a celebrity."

Jellals mouth fell agape, before he started to laugh too. "No way. Why the-boy-who-lived?"

"It's because of what gave me this scar. There's a spell in my world, the killing curse. And, well it does just that, kills no matter what. No one has ever survived being hit with a killing curse."

At this information Jellals face lost some of it's levity, growing astonished and a little fearful. The thought of one spell that could just, kill, like that was daunting to say the least.

"No one ever survived it... Except me." Harry said with a half hearted smile. "Hence, 'boy who lived'... It was that killing curse that gave me this scar actually." He said informatively, tapping the lightning bolt mark. "Given to me by Voldermort."

"Is that why you and him are magically bound?" Jellal queried.

"Sort of..." Harry answered.

"Wow..." The Edolas prince uttered, not for the first time.

The two both had very remarkable backgrounds. Pasts that shared certain details that made them something of kindred spirits. Perhaps that was why they had told each other their stories, after scarcely having known each other for a day or two.

Then Jellal started to chuckle, which turned into a guffaw, all pretence of not waking Wendy having been forgotten. "So, what are you? Me from a different world?"

Harry joined in the chuckling, and added his own idea. "Hey, why can't you be Me from a different world? Why do I have to be you?"

"Oh shut up." Jellal chuckled good-naturedly. "Hey, maybe there's a me in Earthland somewhere?"

"You mean, maybe there's an 'us' in Earthland." Harry corrected mockingly. The Edolas prince laughed a little harder at that, and Harry continued to say. "I don't know what you're laughing at. If i'm you from another universe, that makes us what? Brothers? Maybe I should start calling you lil' bro."

"Don't you dare." Jellal tried to say threateningly, but a grin peeked at the corners of his mouth, and the veil of faux hostility gave way to more chuckles.

It was hard to believe the two had only met a few days ago, but they shared experiences that made them fast friends. Both pretty much strangers in an unfamiliar land, well, one more so than the other, but still. Birds of a feather and all that.

Little did they know, that their entire conversation had been overheard by a one, blue haired girl, who was supposed to be sleeping...

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

A/N: Another chapter said and done. Hope you enjoyed it. :)


	3. Good, bad, and ugly

The next great never-ending adventure.

Chapter 3: Good, bad, and ugly.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or Harry Potter.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

It had been a week since Wendy joined their little travelling group, and both Harry and Jellal found her to be an untameable adorable addition to their convoy. She'd walk along between the two older mages, occasionally skip and generally keep them upbeat with her optimistic attitude.

It was the middle of the afternoon, and the trio were approaching a town that lay in the distance. The landscape had changed over the past few days of travelling, going from dense woodland, to open and rather dusty plains.

On the outskirts of the town, Jellal spotted a sign at the side of the road. The wood of the sign was rather worryingly peppered with bullet holes, and it had almost fallen off its posts. But the name was still legible. "Redfowl." Jellal read out dryly.

"Seems like a lovely place..." Harry added just as dryly.

As the three approached the town, Harry couldn't help but be reminded of some spaghetti western films he'd seen, or at least, he'd happened to glimpse on the Dursley's television.

Most of the town seemed to be arranged along a single street, with a train station at the other end from where Harry, Jellal and Wendy were entering.

The ground was dusty and dry, while the sky was a clear blue. With the sun baking down mercilessly, Harry felt somewhat stifled under the oppressive weather. Although the town was about as empty of people as the sky was of clouds. A fact which caused Harry's nerves to bristle.

It was all too quiet, and as a clump of tumbleweed rolled across the street, Harry came to a stop in the middle of the road, at the top of the street. This caused Jellal and Wendy to halt a few paces ahead, once they'd noticed Harry had stopped.

"What is it?" Jellal asked, seeing the wary look on Harry's face.

"Awfully quiet round here..." Harry supplied as a sort of non-answer.

Both younger travellers then cast their eyes around the street. Wendy shuffled nervously on her feet. And Jellal's face creased in the same suspicion Harry displayed. "Yeah." He added in agreement.

"Maybe we should get off the street." Harry suggested. To which the other two nodded, and followed after the older wizard as he went to the side of the road. Where he began walking along the bits of wooden sidewalk and porch that the bordering buildings had.

Wendy followed along tentatively, while Jellal made more of a habit of keeping an eye out for anything unusual. When they got about halfway down the street, a cavalcade of sounds became just audible, coming ever closer to the town.

Whoops and cheers were being shouted out by a number of individuals, and they did not sound all that friendly. The owners of these raucous jeers were not yet in sight, so Harry turned to the two children and, shepherding them into an alleyway nearby, told them. "Okay, stay here until I find out whats going on. Stay out of sight. We don't know who these people are, so just keep safe."

Wendy nodded rigorously in reply, and Jellal gave a single, curt nod. As Harry stepped out of the alley once again, Jellal moved himself and Wendy further back into the small side path, keeping an ear and eye out for the danger that may be approaching.

Standing at the side of the street, Harry squinted down the road in the direction from which the sounds came. Sun somewhat dazzling his vision, he kept one hand subtlety resting on his wand as three riders on horseback rounded the corner.

From this distance Harry could make out three figures on horseback. Two of them holding guns in both hands, which as soon as they entered the street proper, they began firing into the air. The cracks of gunshots pierced the relative quiet of the town itself, as these riders came into town, shouting and hollering into the air.

Harry could now see a fourth figure, one he had assumed to be a saddle bag of sorts, but which now appeared to actually be a person. A young man who was completely bound, trussed up like a pig and bouncing in an ungainly manner, up and down on the back of the middle riders horse.

The riders themselves were all relatively similar from what Harry could tell. All tanned, blue eyed, middle aged people. Two men and a woman. The man who rode on the left of the trio was quite rotund, with a big bushy beard consuming a large portion of his face. Whilst the other male, on the far right of the three, was scrawny and wiry to a near comical, or at least terribly ill degree. Then there was the woman, the central rider whose horse bore the tied up fellow. The woman was harsh looking, with long and wavy, copper coloured hair that billowed out behind her as she rode along, a pace or two ahead of the men, seeming to lead them.

The trio wore similar clothing, all quintessentially wild west in style, though each with a different colour scheme to it. It seemed to Harry's increasingly distasteful appraisal, that these three had coordinated their attire on purpose.

As they drew near to where Harry stood, their caterwauling slowed to a stop, and the bearded one called out. In a laughing, booming voice he jeered. "Well lookie here! One of you's is actually gutsy enough to come 'n face us! What'll we do with 'im?"

"Yeah! Yeah! What'll we do!" The skinny rider echoed, in a shrill grating voice, that sounded all to much like a house elf for a grown human to speak with.

"I say we let him know that we ain't goin' nowhere." The female rider oozed, her voice gravelly and threatening. She then jostled her horse, which reared up violently, letting out a vicious neigh. With the sudden bucking, the bound man on the back of her horse, tumbled off the end, to land with a heavy thud on the dusty ground.

"Here's you 'mage' back." She spat venomously. "Don't send another if you know what's good for ya." Then with the speed of a practiced duellist, she drew a pistol from her belt and levelled it at Harry. Pausing a second to smirk at him viciously, she pulled the trigger.

The crack of the gunshot was doubled, by the whip-crack sound of another sort. Harry had been drawing his wand when he realised it'd be too late. However something in him had reacted quicker, and as a result, the bullet flew through the empty space where Harry had just been.

All he had done was briefly wish he wasn't in the path of that bullet, when he it was unlike any apparition he'd performed before. There was no crushing, squeezing sensation. Nor was there the nauseating tunnel vision, or the sudden feeling of needing to vomit. If anything, the apparition Harry had just executed was flawless, comfortable even. The sudden change had been almost natural, so natural it felt instinctive. Maybe it was instinctive though? His body and magic reacting of its own accord, or having been triggered by the threat.

So the riders did double takes simultaneously, as Harry called out from the other side of the street, his tone holding an undercurrent of warning. "I don't know who you people are... I only just got into town. But so far you've got a tied up guy, and you've tried to shoot me." Harry trailed off, fixing the three riders with a cold stare.

"Mage." The bearded rider growled out, his beady eyes narrowing.

"Another from Blue Pegasus i'd bet." The spindly one added. "Come to save your friend have ya? Well too late!"

"Yeah. Your little dwarf is right there for you. Pick him up and get out of town if you know what's good for you." The woman intoned dangerously, gesturing to the unconscious man tied up on the floor.

Harry was going to reply, but the woman proceeded to ignore him, in favour of calling around, shouting out. Apparently addressing the townspeople. "And the rest of you pathetic dust rats! If you send another mage out at us, we're gonna be takin' double the protection fee this month! Who knows, we may even take some of your people too! As paymen-" the rider didn't get any further, as Harry had decided he'd heard about enough.

Not one to sit by and do nothing while people were being harassed, Harry drew his wand. Directing it at the hooves of the central riders horse, he cast. "Serpensortia."

At the incantation a white light flashed from Harry's wand, and a snake flew forth, jettisoned through the air to land around the hooves of the riders horses. Its scales were a pasty grey in colour, while at its head the reptilian cord of muscle fanned out into a hood. At around three or four metres at least, the snake was identifiable as a king cobra.

While the riders were still reeling from the sudden appearance of a snake at their feet, Harry hissed three words in parseltongue. "Bite the horse."

The cobra lashed out in a moment, snapping at the leg of the female riders horse. It would've been hard for these beleaguered beasts not to notice, but now the horses took sudden, terrified note of the venomous predator at their hooves. Consequentially, they began to panic.

While the three bandits cried and shouted obscenities at Harry and their horses, the equine animals thundered off at a spectacular pace, heading down the street and out of town. A few gunshots rang out, but none had been reliably aimed.

So Harry watched as the three hoodlums were carried out of town by their own horses. Now, what Harry needed was to find out what in Merlins name was going on here, because quite a few questions were piling up in the back of his mind.

Casting his passive gaze back at the cobra he'd summoned, the seventeen year old wizard hissed a few more words at the snake. "My thanks cobra. You may leave now. But do not harm the people of this town." Authority was important when speaking with snakes, but luckily the fact that he'd summoned this one into existence helped his status somewhat. Not to mention that he, a human, could speak the language, which in and of itself afforded Harry superiority over the reptile.

Silently, the cobra slithered off out of the town. Harry watched it go for a moment, before his eyes widened at a sound. A grumbling grunt reminded him of the bound man. Briskly walking over, Harry knelt down, and with a quick spell, untied the bloke.

The man he could now see properly, was stout, red-haired and if Harry was honest, sort of on the ugly side. Not that he'd hold it against the guy, or anyone, but the mans blunt, sloping nose, large forehead and generally unique appearance made it difficult to not make a snap judgement.

Though dusty, badly bruised and grubby, the man was wearing a wholly white ensemble of clothes, with the button down shirt he wore, open at the top by one too many of its buttons. If it wasn't for the stoutness, wardrobe, and sheer silent bombastic appearance of the guy, Harry would've said he held a passing to Ron.

Unavoidably, the similarity opened a wound so to speak. Harry had done a decent job of quashing the memories of his friends down, ever since he'd arrived in Earthland. It wouldn't do to dwell on painful subjects. That hadn't helped when he'd lost Sirius, and it wouldn't help now. But this short ginger, though he'd yet to regain consciousness, reminded him of his old friend... He was even thinking of them as his 'old friends' now... Harry's face pooled into a look of melancholic sadness for a time, before he snapped out of the revery and called over his shoulder.

"Jellal, Wendy. You can come out now." At the call, the two immediately poked their heads around the corner. Apparently they'd been keeping a close eye on things. But they left the cool shade of the alleyway, and came over to where Harry crouched by the unconscious man, in the middle of the empty street under the blazing heat of the sun.

"Wendy, I don't suppose you could spare a little healing magic? Wake this guy up?" Harry asked gently. The girl had told them about herself since she'd been travelling with them, and part of what she'd told, included the magics she could perform. Healing magic being one of them.

"Yes!" She nodded eagerly, kneeling down to begin working her literal magic.

After the healing light stopped shining on the man, he gave a very sudden start. Sitting bolt upright and barking out loud something that sounded like. "Men!"

After shaking off a daze, the man mumbled to himself. "My... my perfume...? Where... What?" A confused rambling which came to a halt when he laid eyes on the three surrounding him.

"Who are you!?" He asked, his tone confused and frightful. His voice had an oaky timbre to it, a resonance that was quite peculiar coming from such a short man. "Where am I!?" He continued becoming more alarmed. "What's going on!?" He wailed. "MEN!"

Sparing a passing thought to recognise the resemblance to Ron was merely skin deep, Harry held up his hands in a placating gesture and tried to reassure the distressed fellow. "Wait, calm down, you're okay. We're not gonna hurt you, in fact, Wendy here just healed you. So there's nothing to freak out about... Now, do you remember what happened?"

"Men! I was defeated!" The stout young man lamented theatrically. "My perfume was not enough to thwart them! I am a failure as a mage!" Despite his melodramatic manner, the poor guy did seem genuinely distressed.

Trying to put a stop to the rambling man, before he burst into tears or something, Harry quickly began. "No, mate, you didn't fail. It looked like it was three on one, and-"

But as quickly as he had woken, the man switched moods in a moment, becoming jovial and merry. "Oh you are right! Thank you my friend, you have reinvigorated my perfume with your encouraging words! Yes, indeed, mhm, quite, yes!" He trailed off muttering odd sounds and encouraging words to himself, while staring off into the middle distance.

"Okay, well... Good?" Harry tried, not quite sure how to react to this mans larger than life personality. He may bear a passing resemblance, but this fellow was nothing like Ron.

"I must try again! And if I should fail again? Why I shall try again until I succeed!" The ginger gentleman suddenly exclaimed to them. Before settling back down again and adding in a quieter tone. "But first i'll just sit here for a bit... Yes..."

Harry, Jellal and Wendy all exchanged looks of confusion, and in Wendy's case mild fear, before the man spoke again. "Perfume anyone?"

"No thanks, i'm good on the... Perfume front..." Harry said, thinking that maybe the man had incurred a head injury or something.

"Could you tell us what happened?" Jellal asked, trying to move the conversation forward.

"Of course! But first, allow me to introduce myself." The man proclaimed, leaping to his feet and giving a dramatic bow. "My name is, Ichiya Vandalay Kotobuki, of the guild Blue Pegasus..." He said, striking a pose.

"Okay, nice to meet you Ichiya." Harry replied cordially. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Men." Was the (sort of but not exactly) reply.

_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_/\\_

A/N: Here we go! Been chipping away at this chapter (and writers block in general) for a while now. It's not too long, but it'll be a two/three part wild west extravaganza! (Extravaganza is too string a word, but you get what I mean) Why am I using so many exclamation marks in this authors note? Because Ichiya! That's why! :)

Thanks for reading, and if you've got any constructive criticism, suggestions, or anything like that for me, drop a review!


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